


His Thing

by ImaKaraTabiHe



Series: What is "Normal"? [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Allen Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt, Human Barry, M/M, Mental Health Issues, OCD - Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Pre-Relationship, Pre-lightning, future Barry Allen/Leonard Snart - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaKaraTabiHe/pseuds/ImaKaraTabiHe
Summary: Barry Allen has something to hide, and it's something he wants to keep hidden.





	His Thing

He's not sure when it began, nor when it got worse. He didn't even notice it until it grew from the darkness, grew enough to be noticed – his _thing._

Somehow all he remembers is blowing into a glass, examining dishes and kitchen utensils to ensure they had been cleaned. Anything that looked off was put away to be re-washed. Clothes into the hamper, dishes back into the sink. Floors, doorknobs, counters… He cleaned because things were dirty.

The sound of running water echoes in Barry's ears as his eyes seek every soap bubble on his hands, reddened from the hot water. A shiver ran down his back, mind racing with thoughts. 'Are they clean enough?' 'Are all the bubbles gone yet?'

Barry sighs as he turns the water off, waving his hands in the air, droplets falling onto any near surface. He side-eyes a towel hanging from the rack. 'How long as that been there?' he wonders, before giving up and taking a new towel from the drawer and wiping his hands dry. He shifts the old towel over on the wrack and adds the cleaner one beside it, noting the color difference. He'll throw the dirtier one in the hamper later.

Flipping the light off, he walks into the dark hallway. He tries not to brush up against anything. God knows he's been such a burden on Joe and Iris already. They wasted a lot of money on him, and he felt guilty for it.

'Rubbing alcohol, handsoap, laundry detergent, Clorox wipes, hand sanitizer…' his mind loops, reminding him of that little itch that never fully goes away. Barry's bent over backwards for it more and more each day.

At least now that he's a CSI and making money, he can afford all those cleaning items, and the slippers he's wearing as he pads back to his room. It would make Barry's throat tighten at the thought of stepping on whatever dirt, grime, and bacteria that people trail about wherever they go. Slippers were handy, and like other cleanliness related things, they made him feel less like he was going to be strangled.

Opening his door, he stumbles on a towel he'd left on the floor with the intention to throw into the hamper, and the realization that the towel had come in contact with his socks throw the slippers made him whimper. Barry swears and flips on his lamp, quickly stripping his socks and replacing them with fresh, clean ones.

It helps, but the itch is there, ready to pop out again. Barry swallows, fingers digging into his sleep shirt. He stands there, frozen, as he tries to collect himself, to find some way, _any way,_ to push the itch back.

It takes him a few minutes, and he can see the digital clock by his bedside staring at him with angry red numbers. He's too tired for all of this.

When it's all under control, or as under control as it's going to get, he crawls back into bed, pulling the covers up with an exhausted sigh. If he tries hard enough, he could get 4 more hours of sleep before work.

'I have to remember to get more handsoap today… More hand sanitizer wouldn't be so bad…' Barry can't help but think.

A stinging sensation reminds him about the backs of his hands as they meet the blankets. He runs his fingers over the back of his right hand; it's dry and cracked, but he knows he's lucky they aren't bleeding. 'The price of cleanliness,' he bitterly thinks.

'If only I could be normal…' Barry wonders what it's like to not take a shower before bedtime and crawl into your own bed. How do people deal with having dirty clothes? How can _he_ ever be normal?

He sighs, turning over, feeling his pj bottoms ride up his legs. At least he's wearing the kind of boxers he likes. Not the ones that are too breezy and slip up, but the ones that cling to his figure. He doesn't want to imagine himself in the regular kind.

Because bugs? He absolutely hates, especially in his room. He hates the way they can crawl over his bed and clothes (at least it's not his bare skin). Barry's had to strip once when he found a spider crawling over his pillow and his sleeve. At least wiping down the sheets around the pillow, replacing the pillow case, and changing clothes makes him feel a bit better. It's only too bad that the uneasiness of having his space invaded kept him up later than he should've been.

Eyes slipping closed, he tries not to think about Randy Pierce…

“ _Dude, it's just a sock. I don't get what the problem is.”_

“ _What the fuck, man!? I only touched your shoulder. Damn… You're a weirdo...”_

Needless to say… that friendship had come to a quick and sudden halt. Not that Barry could blame him. He was a freak. Him and his… well, _thing._

'Stop it,' Barry chides himself, tugging on his long sleeves with irritation. He can't afford to dwell on those memories. He's just gotta deal with it. Do what he has to. Keep his secret safe…

If he wants to keep his friends and family, to keep his coworkers from knowing what a freak he is, he's gotta be careful.

'Just appease the beast in private, and pretend to be normal in public.' He can do that. Can't he?

How hard can 'normal' be?

  


...Maybe a little hard with his _thing._

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post this. Hopefully, I can start working on the next part soon.
> 
> Have a good week~


End file.
